


The Honeymooners

by CSM



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: AU canon, F/M, Honeymoon, Road Trip, post 3x23
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-03-26 18:32:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3860260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CSM/pseuds/CSM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have been officially together, officially married all of two days and he’s learned so much about her in less that 48 hours and he loves every minute of it. He never enjoyed learning in all four of the schools he’s been to, but he finds himself willing to spend the rest of his life learning everything he can about his wife. </p><p>He wants to learn it all. He wants to know her inside and out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. their very last first date

**Author's Note:**

> This originally started off as response to a prompt on tumblr, but then somehow spiralled into a multichapter fic. It's going to be a series of one shots about their time on their honeymoon. No real order of things, just random moments on their honeymoon.

He never understood the expression, ‘I’m smiling so much, I can't feel my face’, until he finds himself married to the love of his life, driving along the coast the wind sweeping up their hair. At one point the sun catches their matching rings and he suddenly he finds himself grinning manically at the sight. He's pretty sure if Felicity did not have the same matching grin, she would be questioning whether or not there were sides effects of the herbs he had taken while under Ra’s control.

They have been officially together, officially _married_ all of two days and he’s learned so much about her in less that 48 hours and he loves every minute of it. He never enjoyed learning in all four of the schools he’s been to, but he finds himself willing to spend the rest of his life learning everything he can about his wife. 

He wants to learn it all. He wants to know her inside and out.

They start their cross-country road trip honeymoon with one duffle bag filled with their stuff. It should not make him this ridiculously happy to see her pink razor tangled up in his briefs, but each time he comes across one of her belongings mixed in with his things, he finds himself grinning to himself. He just loves seeing how well their lives are now entangled, from the huge things like the way the bellboy addresses her as Mrs. Queen down to the way her brightly coloured panties mix with the dark blues of his shirts.

He loves it all. 

He notices the little things about Felicity, small things that makes him fall in love with her all over again. The way she snores softly as she sleeps, her hand tucked under her chin, no matter where she falls asleep. She has to wash her _feet_ before she gets into bed at night, ‘I've been walking around this room all day barefoot, Oliver. I'm not bringing the dirt into our bed’ It's the weirdest thing he’s discovered about her, yet. He buys her bedroom slippers at one of the numerous hotel lobbies, but she refuses to wear them, claiming she loves the feel of the carpet against her toes. He doesn't bother to argue with Felicity Smoak….nay _Queen_ logic, he learned that lesson long before they even got married. He actually thinks it's possible to love _everything_ about her. He doesn't voice this particular thought, certain that she will blame the insane amount of sex has rendered him loopy. But he’s beginning to learn that anything that involves Felicity is a new adventure in its own and finally, it’s an adventure he welcomes with open arms. 

He never thought he would enjoy doing such _normal_ things.  Waiting out a thunderstorm in their large king side bed, Felicity’s tablet sitting between them as they share a blanket, watching a movie. Window-shopping along the cobblestone pathway of a small town. Once he feels the familiar weight of her small hand in his, he is pretty sure he could enjoy just about any mundane task asked of him.

She makes fun of him the third night, while naked in their bed tangled up in numerous sheets. Her hair is standing on edge, she looks throughly sexed up – her words, he does not disagree- and she’s trying to entice him back into bed, but he wants to take her to a restaurant that's literally floating on a lake.

“Oliver, I'm currently _naked_ in our bed, promising you copious amount of orgasms and you want to go for _dinner_?” She asks incredulously,

She rolls onto her back, forgoing the sheet so that her blonde hair is splayed across a pillow her chest bare. There are red marks all along her fair skin, either from his mouth or his stubble, and he has to fight the animalistic instinct in him, to just _pounce_. He wants to show off his new wife, it doesn't matter than no one knows who they are. He just want to take her out, wine and dine her and then bring her back to their room. When he tells her just that, she rolls her eyes dramatically, rolling onto her stomach to look up at him.

“Oliver, I'm already in your bed - _naked_ might I add- there is no need to _woo_ me. You _got_ me.” She teases, biting her lip as she looks up at him with hooded eyes, three days as new lovers and already she knows all his weaknesses. Although, he’s pretty sure _she_ is his weakness.

“Felicity.” He drawls out, knees pressing into the bed as he crawls over to her, “we’ve been married for four days and yet we haven’t been out on a date. I want to take my wife out on her very _last_ first date.”

“Oh.” She squeaks in surprise, and he smiles knowing he’s got her attention.

His hands skate along her bare skin and with one swift movement he’s flipping her over onto her back, his own equally naked body looming over her surprised form. He kisses her soundly, his stubble ghosting across her cheek, “I want you to wear a beautiful dress and those sinful nude heels so I can take you out to a nice restaurant overlooking the lake. The stars above us as we share a meal and a bottle of wine. I want to walk you home, as I hold your hand, and then kiss you goodnight. I want to do it _right_ this time. I want to take my wife out for our very first date.”

“How can a girl say no to that kind of proposal?” Felicity says slightly breathless, her arms wrapped around his neck as she looks up at him with clear blue eyes.

She grins mischievously, her barefoot trailing up Oliver’s bare thigh, both of them gasping when Oliver’s hip rock into hers automatically. She cards her fingers through his hair, tugging at it lightly. She reaches up to tug gently at his earlobe with her teeth, her breath hot against his skin,“You should know, that I don't kiss on the first date, Mr. Queen.”

Oliver laughs at her words, his hips rocking slowly against her, his erection growing against her wet folds and they both moan simultaneously at the sensation. He resists the urge to grab her leg and just _sink_ into her, insisting on finishing this conversation and not letting her win yet again, “Then it's a good thing that, what I have planned doesn't involve your _lips,_ Mrs. Queen.”

He punctuates his point by slipping his hand between they bodies, his fingers just barely grazing her wet folds, his thumb pressing forcefully at her already swollen clit. Felicity actually keens in response, her legs falling apart almost immediately as she sighs out his name, “ _Oliver_.”

“I plan on touching every inch of you skin with _my_ lips,” Oliver whispers against her ears, the heat pooling deep in his stomach as he watches the way her back arches as he slips a finger between her folds, pressing lightly against her walls, before he pulls out, making her whine in protest. “My fingers working you into a frenzy until you’re _begging_ me to kiss you. To make love to your mouth.”

“Oh god.” She moans out, just as Oliver slips another finger between her folds. He can feel the way she clenches around his fingers, her body tenses as he nails dig into his skin, her hips rocking against his hand, but before she can chase that release, Oliver pulls his fingers out of her and this time she whines out his name in protest, her nails digging even deeper into his skin.

Her cheeks are flushed and she’s panting as she looks at him incredulously, Oliver only grins evilly in return, “I don't give out orgasms _before_ the first date.”

He pressing a kiss at her upturn lips and slides out of their bed, leaving an aching Felicity in his wake. She scrambles to a sitting position, “Are you fucking kidding me, Queen?”

“Soon, Mrs. Queen. Soon I’ll make it worth your while.” Oliver promises. He leans forward to kiss her, but laughs when Felicity turns her head refusing to accept the kiss from him. He just grins as he slips off the bed making a beeline to the ensuite bathroom.

“I can just finish what you started!” Felicity calls out threateningly from their bed, her voice laden with frustration.

Oliver sticks his head out of the room and smirks at her knowingly, “we both know it would not be as good.”

He grins in triumphant when Felicity just collapses back onto the bed growling in frustrating at the truth behind his words.

Their very _last_ first date is everything they both hoped for. She wears a flowery dress with her favourite nude heels and Oliver wears dark blue jeans with a light blue shirt rolled up to his elbows, complementing his blue eyes. They share a bottle of wine and enjoy seafood paella under the stars. They feed each other shrimp and oysters, getting lost in each other until the restaurant closes and they are forced to leave. They walk back to their hotel hand in hand, stopping every few minutes to kiss under the stars, Oliver teasing Felicity that she’s already broken her rule numerous times.

When they finally make it back to their hotel room almost 4 hours later, Oliver stops her from slipping the key into the lock. Instead, he spins her around and smiles down at her, his hand skimming the bare skin of her arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“I had a great time, tonight.” He says almost cordially and Felicity immediately catches on, she smiles up at him coyly, her fingers lacing through his own.

“I did too.” She says truthfully, but playing along anyway.

Oliver smiles brightly at her words, he takes a step forward, he dips his head towards her and smiles as she rises on her toes and meets him halfway. He kisses her soundly on the lips, his hands never wandering beyond the nape of her neck. It's the most innocent kissed they have shared since that fateful day in the hospital corridor almost 9 months ago and yet it leaves both of them breathless.

Felicity hooks her fingers into the loop of his jeans and tugs him closer to her, her eyes twinkling as she speaks, “Do you wanna come inside?”

Oliver huffs out a laugh at her question continuing to play along, “I thought you weren't the kind of girl to kiss on the first date?”

“Well I already broke that rule.” Felicity smiles coyly walking backwards into their room once Oliver unlocks the door, her fingers still hooked onto the loop of his pants and tugging him in with her, “What’s a few more rules? I recalled someone promising multiple screaming orgasms and making it worth my while,”

Oliver laughs when she adds in her own stipulations to his promise as he pulls her flush agains his chest, his eyes dancing. Who is he to disappoint his wife? “It’s a good thing your husband keeps his promises.”

Whatever retort she has to his comment dies on her lips the moment Oliver lips press against her neck, all coherent thought leaving her for the rest of the night.


	2. Sunburnt Felicity

It's not until the get to the fourth town into their road trip does Oliver pick up on another Felicity quirk to add to his collection. He’s actually ashamed at himself for not even noticing this particular quirk till the fourth town. Felicity has a small collection of nail polish gathering on the dresser of their hotel room. He knows for a fact that none of the small brightly coloured bottles were in their duffle bag; after all he was the one to pack the bag for the both of them. But with each town they visit Felicity has a new bottle resting on the dresser among their deodorants, phones and his wallet. Her fingers and toes also seem to change colour with each town as well. The first town she has deep red nails, reminding him so much of their very first night in Nanda Parbat almost a month ago. The second colour is a light shade of purple, then it's hot pink but it's not until he sees her sitting on their bed shaking the dark green bottle in her hand does he finally notice the fact that she’s been changing colours with each stop they make. 

She sits on their bed only in her underwear and nothing else, but it's not for his benefit, instead it's due to the bright red splotches of sunburn that almost takes up her entire body. Her once fair skin is now an angry red and he knows that, the underwear is the only thing that her skin can tolerate. 

Their private cottage sits on the edge of a lake and they decided to use the privacy to their advantage spending the majority of the past two days enjoying the water and the sun completely naked sans sunblock. Oliver was fortunate enough to only get a deep tan, which he assumes is due to his time on the island, Felicity however is not use to such weather and thus burns instantly.

Oliver immediately offers to drive to the local store to get Aloe Vera gel to rub the burns before they get worse. He walks into their room watching her hunched over her knee trying to paint her nails the familiar dark green. He can’t even tease her about the colour choice because all he can see is the pain etched across her face as she tries to paint her toe nails without letting her bare breast touch the inflamed skin on her thighs. She can barely curl over, her stomach equally red as well.

“Hey.” Oliver calls out softly, tossing the bag onto the bed. She looks up at him pathetically, her nose and cheeks rosy red, if she wasn't in so much pain he would find her absolutely adorable. He takes the small bottle from her, ignoring her protests, “Let me do it, and then I’ll rub you down with the gel.”

She looks at him with narrowed eyes, her bright red forehead turning white at her frown lines, “Do you even know how to do that?”

“Hey, I have a kid sister!” Oliver protests already getting comfortable at the bottom of the bed and taking her ankle into his hand. At her incredulous look he rolls his eyes, “I’ve done it before. It's only your toes.”

Felicity sighs at his words, immediately relenting, “My entire body is currently throbbing with pain, I don't even have the energy to argue with you. Way to ruin a perfectly good honeymoon, Felicity.”

“Hey.” Oliver calls out tugging at her foot to gain her attention, “Nothing is ruined. My incredibly sexy wife is currently sitting half naked on our bed waiting for me to rub her down with…”

“Green _goop_ , to help her sunblock.” Felicity cuts him off with a dry tone, “not exactly sexy, Oliver.”

Oliver pauses mid stroke of the nail polish brush to look up at her, “Felicity, you’re _naked_. Trust me, it's sexy. You made the Sebastian the crab look, sexy.”

His teasing words has the exact response he was hoping for as Felicity throws back her head an laughs wholeheartedly, her partly green toes wiggling at him, “I would blame heatstroke on that _terrible_ – and completely inappropriate - remark, but I now know how much of a sap you truly are.”

“I aim to please, Mrs. Queen.” Oliver attests, sending her a wink before he turns his focus back on her tiny toes resting in the palm of his hand.

“Now _that_ I can certainly agree with.” Felicity says hissing slightly as she shifts, “Is it possible for your skin to literally catch on fire? Cause I'm feeling like a furnace that is about to explode and not even the good kind of explosion.”

Oliver quirks at eyebrow at her in amusement, but turns his focus back on her now green toes, “I'm talking about the orgasmic type of explosions, the good kind that is.”

“I know.” Oliver says with a laugh as he blows gently on her toes, “ I can't promise any of those kind of explosions, but I can promise to help ease your pain.”

“Please, work those magic fingers on me.” Felicity all but pleads at him, she then releases a mock sob in displeasure, “I'm _so_ upset that I did not mean that in a sexual way.”

“You and me both.” Oliver quips teasingly. He places her feet on the bed and grabs the bottle of Aloe Vera gel, the bottle cold to the touch. “Which side first?”

“My back is worse.” Felicity says wincing as she rolls gingerly onto her stomach. She lays her hands out onto the cool sheets groaning in pain as it touches her inflamed skin. As Oliver applies a large dollop onto her back she sighs at the instant relief of the cold gel, moaning softly as he gently rubs the gel into her skin, “I really took this in sickness and health thing to heart.”

“C’mon, stop beating yourself over this,” Oliver says softly, the irony of his statement not lost to either of them. He leans over her bare back to press a reassuring kiss on the nape of her neck, “Neither of us anticipated the sun being that harsh. Just enjoy the pampering Mrs. Queen.”

Felicity hums in response and Oliver can feel the way her body goes lax under his fingertips. He continues to rub the gel into her skin moving to her red legs once her back is covered. He blows on her skin gently, knowing that it will ease her pain.  After a few moments of silence, he knows without even checking that she’s asleep and sure enough as he caps the bottle, Felicity releases a soft snore in confirmation. He leans over her prone form, dusting her hair out of the way so it doesn’t stick to her back. He can’t help but grin when he sees her right hand tucked under her chin as she sleeps, even in pain she still sleeps the same exact way.

He mentally adds sensitive to the sun to his every growing list of things he’s learned about his wife in these short two weeks. He is excited to learn more things about her as they continue on with their honeymoon and the rest of their lives.


	3. Oliver vs GPS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was given the prompt GPS from someone, either on tumblr or here. So this chapter is for that lovely person :)

After the incident with the sunburn he decides to break his first rule of their honeymoon and tell her where they are off to next. They have effectively been through the west coast and are slowly making their way Midwest, but first they have to stop off in Nevada, more specifically Las Vegas, Nevada. His wife’s melodramatic reaction to his tiny admission amuses him to say the least, not that he was expecting anything less from her.

“Did you call my mother?” She asks with a look full of dread as they back their bags. They have evolved to two duffle bags now having collected things such as souvenirs for their friends and family, and a few more clothes. He was told he was ridiculous to think that she could live on 3 pairs of pants for _two_ months.

“I told her we were on our way, and should get there by sun down.” Oliver supplies as he folds her underwear to place in one of the bags.

He rolls his eyes as he watches her just dump everything into her own bag, stuffing his hoodie into the bag before yanking the zipper closed, the bag looking like its bursting from the seams. Yet another thing to add to his list, his wife is a _slob_. Felicity does not put things back and is one of those people who steps out of her clothes and just _leaves_ them there. It’s been a little under two weeks and Oliver is still learning to just let it go.

“Did you tell her about…” She waves her left hand at him showing off her platinum wedding band.

Oliver makes a silent promise to visit the Queen vault when they return so he can give her a proper _engagement_ , not just a ring but the whole shebang as well. She deserves to have story to share with people, to experience that moment. It doesn’t matter if they are already married, it’s not like they did things in order anyway, so why start now? They can’t exactly tell anyone that he proposed to her before running off with his pseudo-wife via the league of assassins, to take down his pseudo-fucked-up father-in-law and made a promise to Felicity that he will make it back to her, so that he can marry her.  He never expected her to grab him by his garbs and kiss him forcefully making him promise her to return so she can claim him as her own and no one else’s. He’s pretty sure he’s never loved her more in that moment.

“I figured she should hear that from you.” Oliver says with a sheepish grin, not even bothering to hide the fact that, breaking that news to his _mother-in-law_ was not on his to do list.

“Are you actually _afraid_ of my mother?” Felicity asks with a laugh, “Oliver, the last time I saw my mother she was telling me that I was in love with you and I should cut ties with Ray. Ray, who was in the hospital and almost _died_ , trust me my mother likes you well enough.”

“She was pleased to hear we were both coming to visit her, but I’m not too sure if she will like the fact that we had a court house wedding.” Oliver points out.

“Oh Frack.” Felicity mutters, pausing from her putting away all the cords from her electronics, “Maybe we should conveniently skip Nevada and head to the next destination.”

“We can’t just _skip_ a state.” Oliver says with a laugh. He grabs both their bags, leaving her to pack up the rest of her electronics. “You can always tell her that you own a Fortune 500 company first, she’ll probably pass out before you get to the wedding part.”

“Are you kidding?” Felicity says with a scoff, hooking her bag over her shoulder as she follows him out of their room, “My mother is way more concerned for my sex life than my work life.”

Oliver falters at her words, pausing at the entrance of their room, “She’s not going to actually _ask_ you about that right?”

“Oliver, I told you about the jell-o incident, right?” Felicity asks him with a pointed look, at his smug expression she rolls her eyes and nudges him out of the room. “Well my mother’s first response was whether or not I had sex in the hospital.”

“Maybe, we should skip Nevada.”

Felicity only laughs at him in response as they walk to reception for her to organize their bill. Oliver waits at the side grinning to himself as the person calls her Mrs. Queen, he’s pretty sure he’ll never get tired of hearing that.

They pack up their few belongings, Oliver purposely putting Felicity’s tech bag in the trunk with their other bags. He has some rules of his own, and there will be no use of tablets or electronics while they drive. Technically, he’s the only one that is driving, but they both agreed to a distraction free environment while on the road.

They are two hours into the drive when the GPS in the car goes out, much to Felicity’s horror. Oliver on one hand isn’t too bothered as he ends up on the highway he use to use when he and Tommy would drive to Vegas in their college days. He’s ashamed of the things they had done back then, but he still remembers the route like it’s the back of his hand. He tells this very thing to Felicity, 20 minutes later when she demands he stop so she can get her tablet, both their phones are also tucked away in her bag as well. 

“No offense, but you were probably drunk off your ass back then while Tommy drove, or had a _driver.”_ Felicity snaps back when he refuses to pull over.

He can see the way her fingers are twitching at her side, her thumb and index finger rubbing against one another, and he knows that’s a nervous tick of hers when she’s anxious to check her tablet.That little trait he’s happy to know about _long_ before they got together.

“No offense taken.” Oliver says in amusement, throwing her a grin, but Felicity only huffs in annoyance.

She’s dressed in a white cut-off shorts and a light blue tank top, her green nails beginning to chip. She’s put away her glasses in favour of large round white shades, that are now perched on the top of her head. Her skin is sun kissed, cheeks rosy with just the barest hint of peeling, thanks to all the moisturizer she’s used in the past few days.

His wife is gorgeous, even when she is wearing a frown and is currently looking at him like she wants to throttle him, and not in the enjoyable way.

“Oliver, it will take you two minutes just to pull over and…”

“I don’t need the GPS, Felicity.” Oliver remarks tersely, “I told you I know the way. Trust me.”

“I trust you with my life, just not directions or with _ever_ being on time – you know it’s a good thing we decided to go courthouse for our wedding, otherwise you probably would have been late for an _actual_ wedding.”

“That’s not true.”

“You can say that now, cause you know you won’t have to prove it.” Felicity quips, an amused smile tugging at her lips. Her smile drops immediately however, once she sees where exactly they are driving, “O _liver!_ This is the wrong turn off. Where are you going?”

“I’m taking a shortcut.” Oliver explains, looking over his shoulder to ensure no other cars is behind them before he comes off the highway, much to Felicity’s loud protests.

“A _shortcut?_ ” Felicity splutters, her hand on the backrest of her seat, as she looks at the highway with forlorn, “Oliver, I’m from Nevada. I know these highways. There are no shortcuts to Vegas, there are mountains and long winded roads. There are _cliffs_. We did not just survive the League of Assassins for you to accidentally drive us off a cliff. If you would just stop the car and let me get my tablet we can fix this.”

“Felicity, there is nothing to _fix_.” Oliver looks over at her in exasperation, “I know where I’m going.”

“Oliver, this was at _least_ 8 turn offs too soon before we get to Vegas. We’re nowhere near Vegas. I won’t be surprised if we started heading back towards Oregon.”

“Felicity, we haven’t even turned around.” Oliver says tersely, “We’re still going in the right direction.

“I just think the tablet could give us…”

“Felicity! I love you, but when you bought the car, _you_ were the one that said I could drive. You also pointed out you would not be doing any backseat driving.”

“Yes, but that’s because the car came with a GPS.” Felicity retorts. She starts fiddling with said GPS yet again, “If I had my tools, I could fix this easily.”

“No shop talk while on our honeymoon.” Oliver quips easily, “That was _your_ rule.”

“This is not shop talk, this is me legitimately wanting to _smack_ you.” Felicity grumbles, “Just pull over Oliver. It will take me two seconds to bring up the map and we can get back on the right route.”

“Felicity we aren’t lost. Just relax and we’ll be there in no time.”

“Says the guy who has no sense of time.”

“Doesn't mean I have no sense of _direction_.” Oliver snaps back.

Felicity huffs in annoyance and folds her arms over her chest, pointedly ignoring Oliver.

Silent treatment it is.

Almost three hours later the sun has since set behind the mountains to their left and they are still making their way across a dirt road, they haven't seen any signs for miles. Oliver is starting to get a bit worried, not that he would _ever_ voice that he’s unsure where they are. Felicity has not said anything to him in _hours_ granted she fell asleep, but now she’s just looking forward, eyes shifting ever so often to him, but still silent.

“Are you going to ignore me for the rest of our honeymoon?” Oliver practically whines. Silent treatment is probably the worst thing Felicity could do. He likes to listen to her talk even if she is mad at him. He is certain now that she _knows_ how much he hates this, which is probably why she does it.

“ _Felicity_.” This time there is no hiding the whine in his tone.

 “Austin, Nevada.”

“What?” Oliver asks in confusion, eyes off the road yet again when he looks at her in surprise.

“Eyes on the road.” She snaps but points ahead of them and sure enough there is a tiny dilapidated sign saying ‘Austin, Nevada’. “Oliver, where the hell are we?”

“Austin?” Oliver offers sheepishly, but sobers up at the glare she sends him, “Alright, I may have taken a wrong turn.”

“ _May have_?” She scoffs incredulously as they slowly drive down the deserted road, their Porsche sticking out like a sore thumb in the deserted town.

“Alright, I messed up.” Oliver confesses, “I took the wrong turn, and should have let you check the GPS.”

Felicity just shakes her head in exasperation pointing at a tiny Victorian house a few feet ahead, “There is a B&B we’ll stay the night and head to Vegas _with_ the use of GPS.”

“Yes, dear.” Oliver says automatically, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, hoping to elicit the same reaction from Felicity. She simply narrows her eyes at him as she slides out of her seat.

“Don’t call me dear, we aren't from the 1950s.” Felicity remarks as she grabs her tech bag and makes her way up the creaky old wooden stairs to the two story Victorian house.

“Yes, dear.” Olive mouths at the back of her head, mocking her, if she’s going to be ridiculous so can he.

“Oliver, I can see you in the reflection of the glass.” Felicity remarks dryly.

Oliver jumps in surprise and his eyes connect with hers in the reflection and he looks at her slightly chastised. To his surprise she breaks out into a smile shaking her head as she grabs the handle, “You stubborn man.”

“That you love?” Oliver offers leaning over so that his breath is hot on her neck.

“Despite my better judgement.” Felicity teases, elbowing him lightly in the gut. She stops short at the reception desk her eyes widening as she takes in the little quaint house. “Wow.”

The entire house is a light shade of purple, white doilies overlong every inch of the room. There is a larger stuffed cat sitting on the wooden reception desk that is painted purple to match the walls. There is a musty smell that overtakes his senses and Oliver is really hoping the stuffed cat was not an _actual_ cat in its past life.  From the look Felicity sends him, her eyes darting from the cat to him, Oliver suspects she’s thinking the same thing.

Almost two weeks together and already he's starting to think like her.

“Oh what a fine young couple!” An older woman greets them warmly, even with open arms. She has bright, purple hair, the roots a stark white showing her age. She’s dressed in a pink dress that is matches the décor of house, almost scarily accurate, “What brings you two to our little town?”

“We’re on our way to Vegas.” Felicity greets pleasantly, “my husband took a wrong turn and now we need a single room to stay the night.”

Oliver can’t help but roll his eyes at her deliberate jab, even more so at the look of reprimand the older woman sends him, “Oh you’re far off from Vegas! It's at least another 8 hour drive from here.”

Oliver holds back a groan at the woman’s revelation, he’s pretty sure any progress he made previously, has now been shot to hell. He takes a step forward and plasters a smile on his face, pleased at the way the older woman reacts at his smile, at least the charm still works on some people, “Do you have a room for us…”

“Prudence.”

The older woman provides looking up at Oliver with a bit of a twinkle in her eye, looking at Oliver a little too eagerly for his liking, okay he takes that back. He takes a not so subtle step next to Felicity and wraps an arm around her waist, ignoring the soft snort coming from Felicity, “Great! We’ll take it for the night. Thank you, Prudence.”

She holds up a brass key to him, but before he can take it, she shakes her head at him and gestures for the two of them to follow her up the rickety stairs, the wood protesting with each step they take.

“I hope you find everything to your liking.” Prudence says pleasantly as she opens the purple door with a flourish as Felicity takes a step into the room, halting at the door. “There is a bathroom behind the closet doors, we thought hidden bathroom added to the fun in the room. Breakfast is served at 7am on the dot.”

“Thank you very much Prudence.” Oliver says pleasantly, not really sure why it would be fun to hide a bathroom from your guest. He frowns when Felicity has no response to that particular remark, and she continues to stand rooted in her spot.

He waves off the older lady and finally takes a step into the room, but pauses at the entrance, the door slamming behind him. The room is pink, much like the rest of the house, but what surprises him is not the Pepto-Bismol colour, but the decorative _plates_ that at hung all around the room filled with pictures of cats.

“This is what hell looks like.” Felicity mutters, her bag landing on the carpet floor with a thud, she then slaps Oliver on the shoulder, but he is unable to tear his focus away on a particularly large cat whose beady eyes seems to be boring into him, “the _beds.”_

_“_ What, I thought we asked for a single room?” Oliver asks in confusion, frown on his face his gaze still focused on the cats to the right of him.

“Oliver, _twin_ beds.” Felicity laments. She tugs on his arm, forcing him to look at where she is pointing.

His grip on their duffle bags loosen almost immediately when he focuses on the two twin beds that are siting in the centre of the room a white nightstand separating both beds, “What was that about 1950s, _dear_?”

“This is all _your_ fault!”


	4. Oliver vs the cats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this from my iPad because I'm on vacation, so formatting may be wonky I hope to rectify this as soon as I can. This story is officially AU now, but damn what an awesome finale no?

“C’mon, we can just put the beds together,” Oliver says with a roll of his eye, but at the hard look she gives him he sighs, “Alright, _I’ll_ put the beds together. Assuming you even want to share a bed with me?”

He tries not to look crestfallen, not wanting to guilt her into forgiving him, but he’s just not use to her being mad at him when it isn’t Arrow related business. Felicity though seems to have taken pity on him and shakes her head, “Of course I want to share a bed with you. I’m sorry about today, _I_ may have overreacted a bit. Not to say I wasn’t _right_ about needing the GPS, cause _clearly_ we did. I’m just a little anxious about my mother, I know she’ll be happy for me, but I also know she wanted to plan the big wedding for me, and I took that away from her.”

Oliver frowns at her words, he takes a step towards her, his hand automatically seeking out her own, “Did you want that? Things happened so quickly that day after we defeated Ra’s all the adrenaline and…”

“Oliver.” She cuts him off a smile filtering across her face as she goes on her toes. She releases his hand and places both of her hands on his cheeks, “I asked _you_ remember?”

“Technically, I asked you first.” Oliver says cheekily.

He grins when she taps his cheek lightly, her nails scratching against his stubble, “Ah Mr Queen, but I was the one that dragged your sorry ass to city hall.”

“ _Eager_ ass.” He corrects with a smile as she tips her head towards him, her universal sign for a kiss and he complies easily. When she lowers her feet, releasing her hold on his face, he looks down at her seriously, “We can still have that big wedding if you want. I’m pretty sure Thea will be equally upset, she didn’t get to plan it, and you know not even getting to be there.”

Felicity frowns at his words, “Oh god I didn’t even think of your _sister_. We just _left_.”

Oliver frowns, as her panic seems to slowly set it, he snakes an arm around her waist and tugs her to his arms, “Hey its okay. We spoke to Thea and John on the way here they know where we are…well somewhat, but the point is everything is fine. Thea will understand, much like your mom will. They’ll just be happy for us.”

“You’re probably right.” She murmurs, her arms looping around his waist loosely as she presses her cheek against his chest, “This would be a very sweet moment, if it weren’t for the feeling of a hundred kittens staring back at us. Tell me I’m not the only one freaked out by this.”

Oliver huffs out a laugh at her words, he places a kiss on the top of her head before he pulls out of her embrace, “You’re not the only one. Why don’t you take a shower, meanwhile I’ll fix the beds?”

Felicity’s nose wrinkles in distain as she looks at the two beds, which are pushed into the corner of the room, only separated by a nightstand. She pats his chest lightly, “You do that.”

Oliver laughs at her response watching as she walks towards bathroom. She stops in front of the shutter doors and throws him an incredulous look as she tilts her head towards the door, “This place is nuts.”

He grins as continues to hear her mutterings about the tiny bathroom. A small yelp has him on high alert all for a second before his heart rate levels out and he reminds himself that there are no threats, if anything there are probably just more _cats_ in the bathroom.

“Oliver! The soap is shaped like a cat’s head.” Felicity bemoans, he looks up just in time to see her poking her head out of the bathroom one long bare arm stretched out and a bright purple soap still in its wrapper, “This is _insane._ This place gives me the heebee-jeebies.”

“We’ll leave first thing in the morning,” Oliver promises, laughing when she visibly shudders and then slips back into the bathroom leaving the bathroom door open.

One of the random things that they do now is converse while the other is in the bathroom. He’s _never_ done that before, with all his previous relationships, he’s never really lived with a girl before. Sara and he did not have an ideal situation and were both using each other as crutches to hide from their problems; with Laurel he hid from commitment with her, he’s ashamed to realize he’s unsure how many women her cheated on Laurel with.

Oliver shakes his head to get rid of those thoughts; he’s not that man anymore. Everything with Felicity is different however; he has a level of comfort with her that he’s never experienced before it’s both refreshing and exhilarating at the same time. He appreciates the little things now, things he took for granted all those years away as well as the past three years of his life. Especially the past three years he’s been holding himself back from true happiness and now that he has it, he’s never letting it go.

He turns his focus back on his current task, but frowns when he sees the large wooden board at the base of each bed. He takes a step closer crouching to inspect it closer, the fucking bed is _nailed_ to the floor. 

“Are we staying for breakfast?” Felicity asks, her voice slightly muffled by the running water..

Oliver pauses his inspection of the bed to contemplate her question, “Do you think they’d give us cat food for breakfast?”

“ _Don’t_!” Felicity implores loudly. He turns to look at the bathroom just in time to see her wet head sticking out the bathroom door to look at him horrified, “Don’t even _joke_ about that!”

“That’s a no on breakfast then?” Oliver teases.

He takes a step towards the bathroom abandoning his current task at the sight of water dripping from her chin and onto her bare shoulder. Felicity however holds up a hand, “No. Don’t take a step closer; this bathroom is too small for _me_. I’m standing in the shower _and_ talking to you at the same time, that alone shows how _tiny_ it is. Honestly, I’m not even sure you can fit in here. There is no way in hell we can both fit in here, so no enticing me with your nakedness.”

“ _You’re_ the one that’s naked.” Oliver points out with an amused grin as he saunters closer to her, “If anything _you_ are the one that’s doing the enticing.”

“Uh, huh Mr. Queen.” She yelps, skittering behind the bathroom door and out of sight much to Oliver’s amusement, “I will not fall for those dimples, well not for this particular circumstance.”

Oliver just shakes his head and leaves her be, he then turns his focus back on his previous problem. He stands at the foot of both beds, and frowns at the large nails that are keeping the beds firmly in place. He plops back onto the bed growling in frustration, his legs hanging off the bed, he’s certain there is barely a foot between his head and the wall. He’s _not_ going to fit on this bed.

“No go with the beds?” Felicity asks with a frown. She’s dressed in just her boy shorts underwear and a loose fitted tank top. She moves to the bedroom door, flicking off the main lights, so that the only light is coming from the lamp between their beds “I haven’t slept on a twin bed since I lived in a dorm.” 

“It’s _nailed_ to the floor.” Oliver grumbles. He pulls himself up to a sitting position and looks at her moaning softly when he finally sees her lack of clothes. The tips of her blond hair is wet and the water is running down her collarbone and pooling on the light blue material of her tank top.

“That’s a no go on sex as well then.” Felicity says with disappointment. She eyes her own bed in disdain.

“Wait, why not?” Oliver asks in confusion, he makes a move to get up, but Felicity once again holds out her hand to him, stopping him.

“Oliver, _you_ can barely fit on these beds.” Felicity reasons as she crawls into a bed.

Oliver groans at the sight of her underwear pulling tight on her ass as she tugs back the blankets. He flops back on the bed dramatically, earning a giggle from Felicity. She’s now lying at the head of the bed, her feet just barely skimming the end of it, “The quicker we sleep. The faster we get out of this creepy hell hole.”

“Alright.” Oliver mumbles, knowing she has a point.

He quickly slips out of his jeans then tugs his shirt over his head, smirking to himself when he hears the soft sigh of discontent from Felicity, it's somewhat comforting to know she feels that same way she does. He crawls to the head of his own bed getting as comfortable as he can, his head hitting the wall ever so often as he tries to fit on the bed, but no avail. He curls his knees to his chest, so that only his feet are hanging off the bed. It's going to be a _long_ night.

“G’night.” He whispers softly, smiling at her just before he turns off the light between their beds casting the room in an eerie glow from the outside streetlight.

He lies on his side facing Felicity’s bed but he can barely make out her form in the glow of the streetlight. He closes his eyes and listens to his own breathing, his body unable to drift off. Fifteen minutes into staring into nothingness, he realizes that despite the warmth of the room, he misses the warmth of Felicity’s body against his.

Their first night together all those weeks ago in Nanda Parbat they didn't have the luxury to just _be_. Their first night as husband and wife however, they spend the day wrapped in each other’s arms exploring every inch of their bodies. He realizes almost immediately that Felicity likes to snuggle- nay, Felicity is a downright kola bear. She would wrap her arms around his torso, her head tucked under his chin while her leg is tossed over his own. She always makes sure to half part of her body is over his, while the other is on the bed. The first time she embarrassedly claimed that his body was very furnace-like and she needed the warmth, by the second night though she crawls onto him and gets comfortable no longer embarrassed at her kola routine.

Barely two weeks since they have been married and already he misses the familiar warmth of her body over his. He sighs deeply, shutting his eyes once again, hoping to fall asleep but knowing he may not be able to

“Oliver?” Felicity whispers cautiously, “are you asleep?”

Oliver grins at her words, secretly glad that she was the one to break first and not him. He opens his eyes and waits for them to adjust to the semi dark before he sees Felicity facing towards him, biting her lip as she squints at him. He knows she’s taken off her glasses so she really can’t see much of anything.

“I can’t sleep.” He admits softly. He shifts in his bed, grunting when his feet fall off the side of the bed, there really is no room for him on this thing. He _knows_ this but he’s not above asking Felicity to join him.

“It’s so _hot_.” Felicity bemoans as she kicks off the blanket, shifting in the bed continuously as it creaks under her weight.

“So that’s a no on bunking with me?” He asks slowly, pouting slightly, but to his amazement, Felicity sits up almost immediately at this suggestion.

“Thank god.” Felicity says softly as she crawls into his bed, over his body and sandwiching herself between him and the wall. Clearly, she was waiting for the invitation, not that she needed one in the first place.

She releases a deep sigh of relief, and that’s when Oliver realizes her tank top flipped up so that its only covering her breasts, leaving her back bare. Her bare back which is currently pressed against the bare wall. Literally, the _only_ part of the entire room that is free from plates is the wall against Oliver’s bed, and that’s because a few feet from the bed is a small mantel that holds three _huge_ stuffed cats.

Felicity has her back against the wall and sighs softly in relief. Oliver quirks his eyebrow in amusement, he looks across at her a smile tugging at his lips. “Should I be offended that you only came across to this bed for the _cool_ wall?”

“’Course not.” Felicity says cheekily, but she’s yet to move from the wall however.

Oliver rolls his eyes and hooks his arm around her waist tugging her body onto his earning a soft yelp in surprise. She doesn't protest she simple sinks into his embrace, her knees are resting firmly on either side of his torso, her breasts pressing against his lower rib cage as she places her ear against his chest. “You know we can’t sleep like this right?”

“Who says anything about sleeping?” Oliver says slyly his right hand already skimming up her bare thigh moving to cup her ass. He goes to do the same with his left hand but hisses out in pain when his elbow collides with the wall.

Felicity giggles as she shifts her body so that she's not straddling his hips and looking down at him, “I told you, sex on a twin bed just can't work. Trust me I've tried it.”

Oliver growls at her words, “That cause your idiot ex didn't know what he was doing.”

“Oliver, it's not a competition.” Felicity says with a huff, but she gasps when Oliver’s finger skims the edge of her panties, fingers only teasing the soft skin there, never slipping under.

“Are you saying you _don't_ want me to prove you wrong?” Oliver teases, just as he rocks his hips up towards hers earning a low groan in response.

“I could be persuaded.” Felicity responds cheekily gasping out as he kneads her ass.

Oliver wraps his arm around her waist, his free hand braced against the bed and when he raises their bodies Felicity gasps out, not in surprise but it horror, “Oliver don’t…the bed!”

But he swings his hips to right to roll them over, only to realize there is no bed for him brace his knee on and they go tumbling to the floor. Felicity releases a loud squeal in surprise as Oliver tightens his grip around her waist as they land with a loud thud on the ground, Felicity now clinging to Oliver.

“Real suave, Mr. Queen.” Felicity teases from on top of him.

“I'll show you suave.” Oliver growls as he grips her by the ass with both hands and hoists them both up into an upright position.

“Fuck.” Felicity moans out, her hands going around his neck, and if she wasn't already wrapped around him, Oliver is certain she would have jumped him.“I _love_ when you do that.”

“I know.” Oliver smirks kissing her soundly. When he pulls back they are both panting.

“We have on too many clothes.” Felicity gasps out.

Oliver simply spins her around and placing her on the bed, tugging of her tank top and tossing it to the side. He gasps out in surprise when Felicity’s hand slip between the elastic of his boxer briefs and she wraps her fingers around his erection, “ _Felicity.”_

 _“_ I got tired of waiting on you to ‘prove’ me wrong.” She quips back sending him a cheeky grin fingers massaging him slowly, and when his hips rock against her hands she just smiles proudly at her words.

Oliver growls at her words, he takes hold of her underwear and with one forceful tug he tears it right off of her. Felicity’s hand slip from his boxers briefs and she gapes at him. He crawls over her body just barely allowing her time to fall back onto the bed, his elbow grazes against the wall yet again but he ignores that as he lowers his head to devour her lips. He's still standing however, one foot planted on the side of the bed  he tries to move over her body more firmly over hers,  but growls when his knee keeps slipping down the side of the bed, his leg hanging off the bed and he can't rub against her naked body like he would like.

“Fuck.” Oliver growls angrily, he slides off the bed, hissing when he takes her in. She's lying on the bed her entire body flushed, her mouth swollen, and her chin pink from his beard.

She looks at him in confusion, but Oliver is getting to his feet and tugging her into a sitting position before she can question him, he’s taking her in his arms yet again and spinning around so that he’s sitting on the bed with her in his lap. With both feet firmly planted on the ground and Felicity sitting in his lap he sighs in relief, his mouth zeroing on the round globes of her breasts that are currently bouncing right in front of his face. He lowers his mouth to her left breast, rubbing the nipple with the coarse hairs of his stubble, knowing how much Felicity loves that,

Sure enough Felicity fingers find their way through his hair tugging on it lightly as he moves his cheek against her sensitive bud, once then twice before he lowers his mouth. His tongue wetting the heated skins

“Oliver….I…need more.” Felicity keens,

Her fingers are already tugging at his waistband and wanting him to get up, but Oliver has Oliver plans. he scoots back onto the bed, holding firmly onto her waist as he lowers himself back onto the bed, but he underestimates the length of the bed and hisses when the back of his head collides with one of the plates that's hanging over the bed, the other’s rattling at the movement,

“Oliver!” Felicity winces, fingers already moving to the back of his head as he it's up, “are you okay? I think you cracked one of the plates. There is a comment about your hard head on the tip of my tongue, but you seem to be in pain.”

Olive huffs out a laugh at her words scooting down the bed so that his knees are bend at the end of the bed, “Different kind of pain.”

Felicity twinkles at his response, but he doesn't even bother to wait for her to remark he just grabs her by the waist and hoists her in the air, all the while he’s lying flat on his back. Felicity’s arm shoots out at the sudden movement, gripping the mantel at the sudden movement.

“Oliver what are you do…. _oh!”_ She parts her thighs automatically as Oliver’s tongue seeks out her dripping core, “Oliver…fuck you’re good at this.”

Oliver laughs against he swollen lips, his stubble grazing against her sensitive skin, making Felicity gasp out in surprise. He runs his tongue against her folds, paying particular mind to her clit, pressing against it a few times before moving down the length of her slit, only encouraged by her loud pants of pleasure. Felicity’s fingers seem to have once again have a firm grip of Oliver’s head and she applies pressure as begins to rock her hips agains this mouth, her thighs tightening around his head, he continues his ministrations for a few more minutes, until Felicity clamps her legs closed and Oliver has to forcefully remove her.

“Felicity!” Oliver gasps out, filling his lungs with much needed air, “can't breathe.”

“Sorry!” She squeaks in embarrassment, her voice coming out in soft pants, her legs widening as she looks down at him, “I don't have anything to hold onto!”

“The wall.” Overs, but then they both looks up and grimace at scary plates with cats.

Felicity shakes her head and goes on her knees hovering over his face yet again. Oliver’s senses are taken over by the scent of Felicity, her red swollen lips dropping with need and he can’t stop himself from running a finger slowly through her wet folds warning a loud gasp in response on Felicity who is already breathless. “Fuck it..I'll figure it out… Just don't stop.”

“Not one to ignore his wife’s request, Oliver encourages her to lower onto his face and he begins to devour her yet again, his fingers digging into her bare thigh. In the back of his mind he can hear the mantel shake, and he suspects Felicity found something to hold onto. He uses his thumb to press agains her clit, as he runs his tongue against his slit, then slipping between her folds, he moans softly as he feels her juices running down his chin. He can feel the way she clenches around his tongue and he knows she’s close so he slips two fingers between her wet swollen lips, hoping to push her over the edge, but suddenly Felicity is scampering off his face and sitting on his chest looking at him with wide frighten eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Oliver ask alarm, wanting to sit up, but unable with Felicity’s weight on his chest, he rubs her thighs soothing instead, did I do something wrong?”

“The _cats_.” Felicity bemoans, “they keep _looking_ at me’ with those big beady eyes. The big brown one is staring me right in the eye. I can do _this_ with them looking at me. No one should be looking me in the eye when I come, unless it's _you_. It's creepy.”

“Felicity,” Oliver moans out in displeasure, “they aren't real.”

“Then why do I feel like their eyes are _moving_ with every move _I_ take?” Felicity counters. Her hands are resting on her legs and eyes the offended stuffed cats warily, “I'm not putting on a _show_ Oliver.”

Olive shakes his head, he knows when to pick his battles, and the look Felicity is giving him right now, is telling him he is _very_ close to not having any sex tonight. Instead he raises his hips and tugs off his boxer briefs, using Felicity’s weight on his chest to his advantage. He then takes her by the hips and lowers her to his lap, smirking when his erection brushes against her folds. He then pulls himself into a sitting position, “just focus on me then. It's just us.”

He doesn't need to give her any other encouragement cause already she’s grasping his erection pumping him a few times before she lowers herself onto him, both of the, gasping out at the all to familiar feeling. Their chest are pressed against each other as Felicity begins to move against him. She clenches around him with each rock of her hips, fingers tugging lightly at is hair as his arms wrap around her back. His fingers trailing along her bare skin, fingernails scrapping slowly as he gasps out.

He smiles widely at her as she lowers her mouth onto his, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip, his tongue prodding her own lips, begging for entrance. He raises his hip, as she widens her legs, sinking further onto him. She pulls back slightly, her face pink as she pants softly against his lips, their breathes mixing together. She tilts her head to the left, her eyes shifting to the right of them, but he moves his hand to grasp her head preventing her from turning her head, “don't look at them, just focus on me.”

“Calling it a ‘them’ doesn't exactly _help…..oh fuck yes!”_ She keens out as Oliver rolls his hips, purposely moving a little harder to keep her focus on _him_.

“That’s it baby.” Oliver whispers, his fingers cupping her face as he rocks his hips against hers, barely allowing her slip off of him before he’s burning himself into her again, his arm around her waist tightening, “c’mon Felicity.”

She’s panting out his name, pleading with him as she clenches around him, her finger finding his shoulder, nails digging into his skin as he pushes her over the edge, her climax only encouraging his own release.

Oliver collapses back onto the bed, wincing when his head once again it's the wall, the plates rattling as Felicity gasps out, her own spent body falling onto his as he slips out of her. He runs his fingers through her hair, his other hand just making small circle at the small of her back.

“Okay…point proven.” Felicity pants out, her fingers making their own circles along the scar on his chest” the familiar movement soothing Oliver’s already spent body.

Their combined body heat, seems to have increased the natural heat in the room, and Oliver can feel sweat dripping down his legs and his forehead, but can't see, to find it in him to move. He's just about to slip into slumber, when he feels Felicity move off of him, he’s too sluggish to stop her, but the loud thud that follows has him sitting up in alert. He looks to his right to see Felicity sitting on the floor between their beds, stark naked and her face completely red, “are you okay?  Did I throw you off?”

“No, I wanted to roll off of you and forgot the only place to roll onto was the _floor_.” Felicity says deadpan. She give him one exasperated look and suddenly breaks out into loud laughter.

Oliver rolls to his side and looks down at her with a lazy grin, “Do you need help getting up?”

“If I didn't feel so _sticky_ I would just sleep on this carpet, it's  cooler and away from all the crazy cats.” Felicity says seriously.

“Forget the cats.” Oliver says with a yawn, his eyes already dropping, “come to bed.”

“Oh no, we are _not_ sharing that bed to sleep.” Felicity remarks, and although his eyes are closed, Oliver just knows her nose is wrinkled in distaste at his suggestion, but he doesn't even have the energy to argue with her. 

“ ‘Kay.” Is his only response, he curls his legs to his chest, feet still hanging off the bed as he barely hears Felicity’s remark, the pull of sleep too strong.


	5. Felicity's Haircut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity goes out on a limb and decides to cut her hair, Oliver isn't too pleased at first

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this on tumblr and realized it can fit into this little series as well, it takes place between chapter 1 and 2 I believe

Two weeks into their road-trip and they find this tiny little villa that sits at the top of a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It has a studio apartment layout, which leaves their bedroom smack in the middle, opening out to patio complete with an infinity pool. The view is breathtaking and she decides she never wants to leave again.

Surprisingly, she is the early riser between the two, but it wasn’t always like that. The first few nights together she had to coax him into relaxing; convince him that there is no looming threat, be it with her words or with her body.  She figures after living eight _years_ on high alert it would take him sometime to get use to this new lifestyle they have adopted.

It takes him all of three days before _she_ is the one that wakes him up with kisses, or the smell of warm coffee and pastries.  Now, she usually lets him sleep and wanders out onto the patio, either with her morning cup of coffee or her tablet.

This morning however the sun is shining brightly, casting a warm glow over their large patio. The sound of waves breaking against the cliff can be heard in the distance and she smiles when she sees the seagulls flying overhead. Sometimes they stop to drink water from the fountain that adorns the dinning area on the patio. Other times they perch themselves on a lounging chair, only leaving when she or Oliver venture outside.

The pool glistens under sunlight, calling out to her more so than normal. The warmth of the sun tickles her cheeks and she knows her decision has been made. She places her coffee mug on the side table and looks through open glass doors and into their bedroom. Oliver is sleeping in the center the bed, his arm tossed over her pillow, no doubt seeking her out. The thin sheet is tossed over his torso so his back and legs are gloriously bare.  She’s tempted to just crawl back into bed with him and get lost in each other yet again, but the call of the infinity pool is too strong. She tugs her hairband out of its ponytail and cards her fingers through her hair; the soft curls just barely grazing against her shoulders. She never would have thought that her impromptu haircut would lead to their first fight. To be fair, it wasn’t so much as fight, as Oliver was simply shocked that she did it and then pouted for the rest of the drive cause he _really_ liked her long hair.

_Yesterday, as they were driving up to this villa, they stopped in the heart of the little town. They needed to get food supplies for the week, as well as Oliver wanted the Porsche to be checked out, not particularly liking the sounds it was making. They found a tiny mechanic garage and while Oliver observed, Felicity went off on her own to explore the small town._

_The small town was as cliché as they come, the only eating-place is a diner that looked straight out of the 60s. Felicity had seen the little hairdresser and just gravitated to it like a camel to water. Before she knew it she was sitting in the bright red chair, fingering her blonde locks in contemplation. Her brown roots getting much longer than she preferred. She took one look at her reflection, her blonde hair almost reaching passed her shoulder and just told the woman to cut it off._

_She left the hairdresser two hours later with a mass of curly blonde hair, the tips of which just barely grazed the very ends of her neck. It’s the shortest she’s ever worn it and_ _she adored it, that is until Oliver saw her walking up to the garage._

_Her smile faltered on seeing Oliver’s put out expression._

_“What did you do?”_

_“Something different.” She replied, fingering her short locks, almost daring him to say something, “new beginnings, right?”_

_Oliver considered her look all for a second, before his features soften and whispeeds softly to her, “You look beautiful.”_

_She believed every word he said, even if he pouted the rest of the ride to their villa. It's not until hours later and they were a tangled of sweaty limbs in their king size bed, the cool coast breeze filtering through their windows, does he softly confesses that he loved her long hair, loved running his fingers through it and playing with the edges as she slept. He confessed that while he's all for their new beginning together, he did not want her to think she needed to change for him, that he loves her just as she is._

_His sentiments were sweet, but his red cheeks of admission did not deter her from teasing him about his words especially after the pout he sported all the way to their villa. She did kiss him soundly though and promised him that her hair will grow back in time and she was no different than she was 24 hours ago.  The last part was said in jest and earned a huff of laughter from him. She spent the rest of the night proving to him exactly how she hasn't changed, and she's pretty sure by the end of the night he was in love with her new hairstyle as much as she was._

Felicity smiles warmly of the memory her body still aching after they thoroughly christened their new bed, a ritual they seem to have adopted every time they stay in a new place. She grabs the edge of her dress tugging it off in one smooth motion, tossing the garment onto the nearby lounging chair. She fixes the cups of her triangle top ensuring she’s properly covered, not that there is anyone in the vicinity of their villa to see, not for a few miles at least. The wind blows through her short curls, whips of blond hair catching in her eyes as she hooks the underside of her mismatched bikini bottoms that seem to have gravitated between her ass cheeks as she laid out on the lounging chair.

“You seem to be having some trouble with that. You need some help getting rid of it?” Oliver’s voice is low and sleep laden, he’s barely able to punctuate the suggestion in his tone. He’s lying on his stomach, his arms surrounding the pillow and his eyes squinting at her as he tries to wiggle his eyebrow, but only ends up yawning into his pillow instead.

Felicity scoffs at his words, she turns to face him; the glass door is pulled all the way, so she can see right into their room. She places a hand on her hip, her head tilts to the side as she looks at him in amusement. She loves a sleepy Oliver, since they’ve gotten together Oliver has been more open with her, more expressive than she’s ever seen him. But, there is something about a sleepy Oliver that she just adores, a sleepy Oliver is just _silly_ and she revels that part of him more than anything else. She loves the fact that she’s the only one privy to that side of him.

“That depends are you coming to join in this bit of public indecency?” Felicity asks coyly.

Oliver barks out a laugh in response, he slowly sits up arms stretching over his head as the thin sheet pools at his waist. He sends her a knowing smirk when he catches her wandering gaze. She just smiles in return, she’s not ashamed, she’s allowed to look now _and_ touch. “It’s hardly public, when it’s our own _private_ villa, Felicity.”

“Yes, well after the incident in the park last week, I’m making sure I’m not the _only_ one caught with my pants down. You know, in case the coast guard decides to pay us a visit,” Felicity calls out teasingly.

She’s already playing with the tie between her breasts that is holding up her bikini top in place. She smirks when his eyes zero in on her movements and he licks his lips in anticipation.

“ _Technically_ , you were wearing a dress.” Oliver teases, “and we’re on a _cliff_ nowhere near the coast.”

He tosses the thin sheet aside and with three large steps, he suddenly standing directly in front of her, bare ass naked. He smirks at her surprised expression, his hand batting away her own, to take over the task of ridding her of her bikini.

“Oliver.” She warns half-heartedly.

They both know its all for show, after all she was the one to start it after all, but where is the fun in just _letting_ him rid her of bikini? To her great surprise, Oliver halts his movements, his fingers releasing their hold on the knot he was trying to untie.

“ _Oliver_?”

This time her tone is that of confusion, unsure why he would stop, after all he’s standing in front of her, naked and more than ready for her to join him in his nakedness. If she’s been honest with herself, _she_ is more than ready to him in his nakedness, as well. In fact she thinks naked Wednesday should now be a new rule for them. Naked all the time, she would be okay with that, and she knows for a fact that Oliver is up for anything. Oh that was a _terrible_ pun, but she’s not _wrong_ on that assertion.

She’s so busy contemplating the merits of naked Wednesdays she doesn’t realize Oliver is up to something, until she’s hoisted into the air and both she and Oliver are heading straight for the pool.

“Oliver!” She shrieks out in horror just as they plummet into the deep end of the pool, water splashing over the cliff.

When they surface, she’s clinging to Oliver’s shoulders, his hands on her waist, water spluttering from her mouth as she tries to catch her breath. Oliver, her ever-prepared husband, ensured that he jumped in the part of the pool where he can stand, and thus is ensuring they both are upright, even if her toes barely graze his knee. The sudden cold water against her chest, gives her pause and when she looks downs she gasps in surprise to see that she is in fact topless. She looks up at Oliver who is smirking at her his head tilts to the side and sure enough floating a few feet away from them, is her bikini top.

“How did you even _do_ that?” Felicity says with a gasp of surprise, shivering as the cold water brushes against her nipples making them peak.

Oliver just smirks in response, his arms going around her waist as she kicks to keep herself afloat, despite the fact that she has her arms around his neck.  She can feel his fingers dancing along her bare skin, his thumbs hooking under the waistband of her bikini bottoms, tugging at the string gently. She hooks her arm around his shoulder, pressing her chest against his, both of them hissing at the contact, water splashing between them.

“Oliver.”

This time her warning tone is one of impatience, and she huffs when he stops his ministration to cup her ass, massaging it slowly. He nuzzles her neck, his stubbles grazing against her cheek as she gasps out his name yet again, his lips slanting over hers. She wraps her legs around his waist, moaning against his lips as she feels his erection pressed against the soft material of her bikini bottoms.  

“Can’t.” Oliver says softly, kissing along her jaw, and she can already hear the teasing in his tone as his teeth sink into the lobe of her ear, “ _Someone_ banned all sex in pools.”

“ _Seriously_? You’re going to listen to me _now_?”

His hands are now at her neck, playing with the short ends of her hair and he refuses to hold onto her. He stands still in the pool, ensuring _she_ can hold onto him, but does not keep her afloat, otherwise. He’s still peppering her neck with kisses, but he’s not moving things along, not pressing himself closer to her. Instead she’s the one that’s clinging to _him_ , with her legs wrapped around his waist, and her elbows resting on his shoulders.  She rocks her hips against him, hoping to encourage him, but simply nibbles at her jaw, his lips pressing against her wet skin.

“ _Oliver_.” Felicity whines in protests, her body aching, she _needs_ him to do something.

She can just release her hold on him, and slip out of her bikini bottoms herself, but part of her - the insane part of her, _clearly_ – is curious to see how long he will last.

“I _really_ like your short hair.” Oliver says suddenly, purposely acting oblivious as he buries his nose in her short locks, and he nips at her neck.

“You’re ridiculously stubborn.” Felicity says with a huff, slapping away his hands that are tangled in her hair as she kicks her away from him.

She finds herself struggling to stay afloat as she tugs her bikini bottoms off tossing it at Oliver’s amused grin. She grins in satisfaction at his grunt of surprise when the wet material slaps against his face. It’s childish to be so pleased at his reaction, but she’s frustrated and _horny_. She starts to swim towards him, but frowns when Oliver takes a step back.

“Oliver.” This time there is an edge in her tone. She is _not_ pleased with this turn of events, even more so at the smirk Oliver sends her. His eyes are dancing with merit as he swims backwards each time she tries to get closer.

“You’re always telling me I should listen to you.” Oliver teases and now she just wants to slap that stupid smirk off his face. Forget the sex, “you were the one to come up with that rule.”

“That’s when you’re in the field and its life or _death_!” Felicity snaps in frustration, not believing that he’s _really_ doing this. When Oliver simply laughs at her, she growls at him, childishly splashing him with water before she spins around and kicks off to the nearest edge of the pool.

“Felicity? Where are you going? I was only kidding.”

His confused tone only makes her smirk in response as she realizes she once again has the upper hand. She grabs the handle on the side of the pool and hoists herself out, she can hear the way Oliver’s breath hitches at her bare form, but does not give him the satisfaction of turning around. She purposely sways her hips as she walks away from the pool, ignoring his calls of protest.

“I’ve decided, since you don’t want to have sex, I’ll just have to take matters into my _own_ hands.” Felicity calls out over her shoulder, grinning at his splutters of protests.

She stops at the entrance of their bedroom, spinning around to face him, making sure to give him a full frontal view. Water in clinging to her naked skin, trailing off the ends of her hair and down her body, she can see the way Oliver’s eyes dilate from here, but she does not give him that satisfaction by reacting to his response.

“Felicity.”

“I’ve been eyeing that multlisystem showerhead in the bathroom, since we got here.” She lies easily, purposely saying that to put him on edge. Oliver doesn’t need to know that, she barely paid their ensuite bathroom any attention the previous night; her only concern was joining him in their bed.

“ _Felicity_.”

“You enjoy your swim, Oliver.” She wiggles her fingers, waving at him, the double entendre not lost to him, when he audible groans in protest, looking at her with a crestfallen expression just before she slips into their bedroom, laughing to herself.

She barely has her foot over the threshold of their bathroom, before Oliver is suddenly appears behind her and sweeps her off her feet and tossing her onto their bed.

Her peals of laughter echoing in their tiny room, as the make good use of their bed yet again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh wow its been a LONG while since I updated this fic O.o my bad. Can't promise regular updates as my other fic Rumour Has It is coming first this month. But hopefully I will be able to add more as the hiatus goes on

It was hot,  _really_  hot. So hot that Felicity swears if anything so much as  _touches_  her she may very well spontaneously combust, and sadly  _not_  the kind she  _insisted she_  was experiencing four nights ago due to Oliver’s tongue.Why did she think they should have gotten ahead of their schedule. A schedule implied that they needed to get things done at a specific time frame, but the world was their oyster of time and unfortunately said oyster was currently the sweat box they called their motel.

They were only suppose to stay here for one night, after the car started to make some funny noises Oliver suggested they stay the night at the closest motel, get the car checked and then they would be on their way. But, as luck would have it, the car needed more than just an oil change, it needed a new part, something they would need 48 hours to wait for, thus they got stuck in the middle of nowhere Arizona. Arizona seems to be experiencing some kind of  _insane_  heat wave and their motel’s 100 year old AC seems to have finally kicked the bucket. Currently, Felicity is lying on the titled floor in just her panties fanning herself as she tries to stay cool. Oliver went to look for someone at the reception desk to come fix the AC, a futile endeavour in Felicity’s opinion, but Oliver, her ever stubborn man refused to believe that.

Felicity lay on the ground palms flat on the tiled floor having since given up on trying to fan herself with the hotel’s welcome sign.

“What are you doing?” Oliver asks in amusement, pulling her from her glorious thoughts of snowmen and igloos.

“ _Dying_.” Felicity bemoans, tossing her arm over her face for dramatic effect. “If I hadn’t already chopped off my hair I would have contemplated shaving it all off. My ears just aren’t made for that, though.”

“You could pull it off.” Oliver offers. 

Felicity rolls her eyes not even having the energy to call  him out for sucking up, she already knew there was no hope for their AC, she looked at it and it was  _dead_ dead. She can hear him coming closer to her, the sound of his bare feet hitting the tiled floor and something squishing through the air. When she hears the tugging of his zipper, she groans softly, “Oliver, I love you but don’t think for second I’m going to let you touch me, much less have sex with you.”

She feels his knee press against her side as he takes a seat and she slaps it lightly, grunting in displeasure. Then there is  _cold_  fingers trailing along her  bare torso and she moans in delight, her eyes finally popping open, “Did you stick you hand in a bucket of ice?”

Oliver laughs watching in amusement as Felicity takes his hand and presses it against her neck and chest. His finger tips grazing the curve of her breast she presses them again her cheeks and moans in delight, “this is probably the oddest form of foreplay I have seen.”

“Don’t even think about it, mister.” Felicity warns, enjoying the last bit of the coldness from his skin, “I’m just using you for your fingers.”

Oliver quirks an eyebrow at her comment while Felicity just huffs in annoyance, “Not like  _that…_ well not now at least.”

Oliver chuckles as he holds up the white plastic bag for her to see, she quirks her eyebrows in questions and when he pulls out a  _large_  tub of chocolate chip mint ice cream and a  _massive_  cup of soda she moans  _loudly_  in response grabbing the ice cream contain and places it on her bare stomach.  “Oh god I  _love_  you.”

“I know.” Oliver quirks an eyebrow at her and overs her a spoon. 

She eagerly opens the the contain of ice cream and moans in delight when she pops a large chunk of ice cream into her mouth.  She is so focused on the ice cream she isn’t aware of Oliver moving until she feels a large chunk of ice against her inner thigh.

“Oliver!” She yelps, managing to hold onto both the ice cream contain and her spoon.

“Just helping keep you cool.” Oliver promises. This time his suggestive tone is  _not_  lost to her overheated brain.

“Oliver, I really don’t think….” She sighs loudly when he sweeps the cold block against her heated skin, “Oh a little higher.”

Oliver chuckles when she moans in disapproval at him moving the ice completely off her skin. “ _Oliver_.”

“So impatient.” Oliver teases.

He tosses the spoon into the ice cream contain and sets it aside, the cup in his hand sloshing slightly and a few ice chips fall onto both of them. Felicity now realizes its not soda but a large cup of ice, she thinks she falls in love with him a little bit more at his gesture. She allows him to slightly push her back into a lying position and her heart rate increases in anticipation at his next move.

Its no surprise that they are both equally imaginative when it comes to their sex life, but  _ice_  has yet to be involved and she is eagerly waiting to see what he’s going to do.  He smirks at her eager expression and  sprinkling a few ice chips on her bare stomach the small blocks melting almost instantaneously  on touching her heated skin. When she looks back up at Oliver, her eyes widen when she sees that he is now crunching on a block of ice.

“Oliver, what are… _oh fuck_.” She hisses loudly when Oliver’s cold lips touches her bare skin and his equally cold tongue trails down her body, leaving a wet trail in its wake her body cooling instantaneously. 

“Told you I had a plan.” Oliver whispers just before his cold lips wrap around her nipples. 

Felicity moans in delight, the feel of Oliver’s cold lips against her skin cooling her inflamed body, but at the same time sending an all to familiar heat straight to her core. She squirms on the titled floor, her back arching involuntarily as Oliver’s teeth gentle tug at her harden nipples, then quickly followed by his cold tongue soothing it. 

Her body is torn, on one hand it craves the cool that the broken ice chips brings her body, but on the other hand it heats up instantaneously at her husband ministrations. 

“ _Oliver_ ,” She gasps out as Oliver cold fingers leave wet trails along her skin.

He only releases her breast for all of 5 seconds to chew some more ice before his cold lips wrap around her neglected nipple. She hisses out in surprise, his cold lips only heightening her arousal. He tugs off her panties in one swift motion tossing them to the side easily. His cold hands are then pressed against her thighs pulling them open and she lets them fall to the sides without much encouragement. Her hips rising  on their own accord earning a soft chuckle from her all too pleased husband.

She moans softly in displeasure when he releases her breast with and audible pop, but suddenly a small block of ice is pressed  _just_  at the junction of her inner thigh and her hips jolt in surprise. Her eyes fly open and she looks down at Oliver who is smirking up at her from between her legs. His lips are red, either from the ice cube or when he was enjoying her breasts she’s not sure. He has his large hand resting on her inner thigh the melting block of ice between his thumb and forefinger as he moves it gently over her skin, swiping it closer and closer to her centre but never getting there. 

Her body is tight with anticipation, unsure if she wants to feel the sting of the ice cube against her heated core. Before she can contemplate the merits of the new sensation a cold sensations shoots up her entire body, her hips would have flew off the floor if Oliver had not held her down.  She can feel the ice cube pressed against her lips, the cold water seeping through her fold and she clenches in pleasure, her entire body tense. Its a new sensation a mixture of plain and pleasure she’s never felt before but her hips have a mind of their own as they rock against Oliver’s hand, his cold fingers sweep through her folds making her hiss out.

“You okay?” He pauses, voice full of concern. She has to force herself to block out the sensations to look him in the eye, reassure him that she is is very much enjoying this new sensation.

“Don’t stop.” She practically begs her chest heaving as she looks down at him.

He smirks at her swipes the almost nonexistent ice along her folds relishing in the way her body convulses slightly and then pops the remaining ice cube in his mouth. He chews on it for a moment and then sends her a devious grin, her heart speeding up in anticipation just as his cold lips press against her folds His cold tongue sends jolts of pleasure through her and she keens out, her hips rocking frantically against his face.

“Oliver _. oh god..._ don’t stop.” She pleads, her fingers carding through his short hair, tugging at it nudging him deeper between her folds. She hisses out as his cold tongue swipes yet again, just as his fingers slip between her lips pressing against her heated skin.

The coldest from his lips and the ice cube blending with her heated skin creating the oddest sensation. She feels both hot and cold at the same time, her body torn on what to feel on how to react. Every swipe of his cold tongue sending jolts of pleasure through her. She squirms under him, gasping as he slowly begins to thrust his fingers in and out of her, each movement heighten by the remnants of the ice cubes and his still cold fingers. 

Her fingers grip his hair tightly as her hips move against his fingers meeting his thrusts frantically. 

“ _Fuck!”_ She yells out in surprise when his cold tongue presses firmly against her clit. His free hand holds down her gyrating hips, hips that are moving at a random frantic pace. “Oliver,  _please_...I can’t...”

“Tell me what you want, baby.” Oliver whispers, the vibrations of his stubble against her core and inner thighs making her hiss out in pleasure.

“ _More_....I need more... _please_.” She’s practically weeping by now, nails digging into his bare shoulder.

He sucks on her clit making her whine out in pleasure his fingers still moving in and out of her until her entire body convulses his fingers never letting up and he lets her ride it out.

She gasps when his fingers slip from between her folds, her entire body covered with a sheen of sweat, her chest heaving. She feels a wet kiss against her stomach as Oliver crawls over her body, his body like a furnace and making her squirm for an entirely different reason.

She wrinkles her nose in displeasure, her naked body now covered with a sheen of sweat and she suddenly feels ten times  _hotter_  than she was before he husband and his wicked fingers had his way with her.

“ _Noooo.”_ She grumbles pathetically hands out stretch so she’s now lying on the floor like a star fish.

“What’s that look for?” Oliver asks in amusement pressing soft kisses along her jaw and neck.

“I’m  _hot_.” She wines out, stated bliss forgotten as the heat returns to her in ten fold, “You and those magic fingers was suppose to keep me  _cool_.”

“You weren’t exactly complaining a few seconds ago,” Oliver teases his voice light, his fingers dancing across her torso and up her stomach. He laughs loudly when she tries to pat his hands away, but her body still seems to be recovering from her orgasm.

“Oliver,” she grumbles, yes opening as she looks at hime pathetically, “I’m  _hot_.”

“You are,” Oliver nods in agreement, grinning when she only glares in return.

She is about to complain some more but yelps when Oliver scoops her up in his arms and heads towards the shower, “Oliver...what...”

He jiggles the cup of ice in his hand, a cup she didn’t even see him _grab_  in the first place, the damn ninja. The ice rattles in the cup, the cool  material pressing against the curve of her ass.

“I still have some more ice,”

Best _. Husband. Ever_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place on very first days of their trip. I wrote this on tumblr, but added more to it and switched to correlate with this little series of mine.
> 
>  
> 
> So with all the spoilers in the last few months this fic is even more moot than it originally was. I wished I was able to truly keep up with it like planned, but with new spoilers it was hard to keep it within this universe. This chapter was a cute little thing inspired by yet another prompt and I think with this one I'll end this little series that was fun while it lasted :) Thanks to everyone who read, commented and left kudos. 
> 
> Sooner rather than later it seems we will be getting some honeymooners on Arrow O.O I'm excited

The first time she cooks for him it is their third morning together, and the first time she awoke before him. She comes slithering into the bed, dressed in only in his shirt, a tray in her hand loaded with food and coffee. Her hair is in a disarray thanks to him no doubt, and she bites her still swollen lips as she looks at him with giddy anticipation.

He smiles sleepily up at her as she crawls over his still supine form. It’s not until she has the tray practically in his lap does the smell finally reach his nostrils. He bites the inside of his cheek to school his expression and looks up at her curiously.

“Whatcha ya got there?” He asks playfully only with a slight hint of trepidation. 

He grabs her by the hips and raises her up so he can slide back against the headboard into an upright position, laughing at her soft squeal of surprise. 

“Oliver!” She protests weakly, the coffee spilling onto the tray when he jostles them. 

She raises to her knees spreading them slightly as she takes a seat on his lap the tray now resting between them. She looks at him with a wide smile, her eyes twinkling and he stops for a moment to really take in her smile. In all the years he’s known her, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her smile so brightly before. Which is saying something because he’d always associated Felicity with all that is bright and light in the world. Then it hits him,  _he_  is the reason for this smile,  _he_  is the one that is making her light up like he’s never seen before. That bright eager grin is all for him and it makes his heart constrict to think that he has this impact on her, that he lights up her life just as much as she does for him.

“You’re doing it again,” Felicity teases, her hand ghost his cheek, her thumb just pressing lightly against his lips. Her eyes soften as she continues, “you’re looking at me like I’m going to disappear any moment. I’m not.”

“I’m not looking at you like that,” He corrects kissing her thumb, her curious gaze making him smile, “I’m looking at you… like I can’t believe I got so lucky.”

He waits for the inevitable huff of exasperation, for her to roll her eyes and declare him a dork, with all the love and affection in her eyes that he’s still getting use to. But, instead her eyes soften and she bites her lips and gazes at him with a look of wonder and realization, “Me too. I didn’t think I’d get so lucky either.”

They exchange shy smiles at her declaration. Despite everything they’ve been through together, everything they have done, the newest of their relationship is not lost to them and moments like these, all though few and far between, still reminds him that they are only just beginning. They may be beginning as husband and wife, but still everything is all so new to them

When she pulls back, her smile is brighter and she is more sure of herself now. She looks down at their breakfast, her eager smile from earlier returning. He looks down that the tray yet again, and finally begins to take in their contents, his earlier trepidation returning in full force at the sight that greets him. There are a few slices of burnt toast hanging off the edge of the plate and he’s almost certain she used a knife to try and scrape off the burnt bits. In the centre is what he can only assume is runny scrambled eggs,  _really_  runny scrambled eggs. Oliver is certain he can see the yolk swimming amongst the cooked portions, he almost blanches when he see egg shells floating within the yolk. He never thought years of schooling his features from his enemies would be used to hide his disgust from his wife’s breakfast. There are overly cooked bacon strips at the side, but Oliver actually likes the overcooked bacon so it’s not so much a bother as the eggs. The eggs make his stomach turn.

He looks up at Felicity and his heart melts at her eager almost shy expression, “Now, I don’t know how you liked you eggs, but the last time I tried to do my eggs well done, I ended up burning most of it and I figured that may not be your style.”

“I love it.” Oliver lies. He realizes yet again, that despite all the things they have been through they are still very much in the early stages of their relationship. If he has to suck it up and lie about his wife’s attempt at cooking, he’s very well going to do it. He refuses to let their first argument as husband and wife be about her cooking, or lack there of.

“Oliver,” Felicity admonishes, “you haven’t even tasted it yet.”

“Right.” Oliver whispers. 

He takes the fork and mentally prepares himself as he cuts off a piece of the egg. He looks across at the burnt toast and wonders if the toast may help but forgoes it unsure if he’d be able to bite into the toast as well. He takes a deep breath and bites into the egg well aware that Felicity is currently sipping her coffee looking at him eagerly. The egg is slimy and undercooked, with small bits of wet, soft cooked parts and he can practically feel the eggshells scraping against the roof of his tongue. 

He swallows forcibly, his eyes falling shut at their own accord, he then looks up at her gives her a strain smile, “I love it.”

“ _Oh_. Thank god. I haven’t cooked in  _years_  and I’d hope that after watching all those cooking shows during all nighters that maybe something might have rubbed off by  _osmosis_  or something.” Felicity babbles excitedly. 

Her coffee cup still cradled to her chest as she savours it he can see her wedding rings glistening against the sunlight. By now he realizes she has a routine when it comes to breakfast. She must have her first cup coffee for the morning enjoying it all on its own, not letting her tastebuds be affected by anything but her coffee and  _then_  she can venture into breakfast territory. 

Her excitement over cooking for him is so sweet that Oliver can’t even find it in him to tell her the truth. He knows they made a promise to each other, after his deception with Malcolm Merlyn, that they will always be truthful with each other no matter how much it hurts. But, he thinks he’ll make an exception for that rule.

  _“I love you a lot, but please stop trying to cook me breakfast, you suck.”_

Yea, somehow he just doesn’t see that conversation going well for him, at  _all_. They are only three days into this thing and he refuses to mess things up just because he can’t suck it up and eat a few bits of undercooked eggs.

“I have to say, I was a little nervous about cooking. You’ve been bringing us breakfast for the past two days and I thought it was time I returned the favour,” Felicity babbles. 

She sitting between his knees now, each of her legs thrown over his. His shirt has slipped off on one side, leaving her shoulder deliciously bare and the curve of her breast just staring back at him invitingly. She just looks so relaxed and _happy_ , he finds himself cutting off another piece of the egg and shovelling it into his mouth again.  Her pleased expression may not mask the taste of burnt toast and undercooked eggs, but her smile does send a wave of warmth through him and he finds himself taking yet another bite listening happily as she goes on about her cooking expeditions during her college years.

He’s beginning to think  _this_  breakfast might actually be an improvement.

His stomach finally protests at the abuse and he stops to take a sip of his coffee. He savours the sweet tangy taste of his favourite flavoured coffee, his right hand moving to her bare knee as he begins to make small circles along her skin. She hums in appreciation as she finishes off the last of her own coffee, her hands gesturing wildly as she goes into another tale of smoke alarms and all the bad puns that followed her around because of it.

He watches her closely, she drinks the last of her coffee placing it on the tray and then picks up the fork. He's bracing himself now, he's certain she has not tasted the eggs, certain if she did, she would have never served. Sure enough the moment she bites into the egg she blanches and  _spits_ it back into the plate.

" _Oliver!_ Why would you tell me you loved this?" Felicity asks appalled, she gags against and grabs his coffee cup from his hand gulping down the rest of his coffee, "That was  _rancid_. That wasn't eggs that was some kind of abomination made to  _look_ like eggs."

She tilts her head to the side and looks at the eggs, her nose wrinkling slightly, "Scratch that, it doesn't even  _look_ like eggs. What was I thinking? Was I not thinking? What were  _you_ thinking eating more than one bite? Now I'm afraid I  _poisoned_ you."

Oliver laughs wholeheartedly at her. He takes the cup out of her hand much to her protest and then places it on the tray. He moves both to the side bench and grins at her so that that her chest is pressed against his. Her hands loop automatically around his neck, while his hands slide between the flaps of her shirt and moving to her bare hips. "You did not  _poison_ me. I may be out of the count for the next few days..."

" _Oliver!_ " Felicity protest slapping his chest lightly and he only laughs in response, "it's not funny. Three days into this marriage and already I've tried to kill you."

Oliver leans forward and begins to pepper kisses along her jaw humming in agreement, "You can't get rid of me that easily."

"Oh....yes...no...I mean no....move up a little....I don't want to get rid of you  _ever."_ Felicity gasps out.

"Your eggs say otherwise." Oliver teases just as she's about to protest he sinks his teeth into her earlobe and tugs on it forcibly rendering her speechless. Felicity's body jolts in surprise and her hips rock against his own.

"This is all your fault you know." Felicity moans softly, her fingers tugging on his hair as she leans back allowing him to make a wet trail of kisses down her neck.

He loves this about her, loves the fact that she can pretty much talk about anything no matter the situation. She gets particularly chatty during sex which turns Oliver on more than he cares to admit. He's been making a mental list of things he needs to accomplish of their vacation and he's certain that making her speechless during sex must be on the top of the list.  He tugs his shirt off of her and flips them over so she's lying against the mountains of pillows, her breast plump and red from yesterday's activities. Her usually flawless skin is now marked with various degrees of beard burn, and Oliver can't help but grin in pride and the matching hickies on the tops of her breast. Her areola is pink and firm, the beard burn around her skin matching it nicely. He grips the headboard over her head and leans forward to play lightly over her nipples smirking at the way she gasps and her hips raise at their own accord.

He wraps his lips around her nipple and the soft gasps she releases makes him think that he's won, but then she starts to talk, her fingers raking against his back tugging at him, but still talking away, words punctuated by little gasps but still talking nonetheless,"I'm usually the smartest person in any room, but I think you, Mr. Queen have scrambled my brain.... _oh..._ Yup...all gone.  _poof_. No more brain... _ah_...it's the sex you know..."

Oliver pulls away enjoying the slight whine she makes, to look at her curiously, "The sex killed your brain?"

Felicity nods her head vigorously, her long legs wrapping around him, and bringing his erection  _right_ against her wet folds. They both gasps in unison as she rocks her hips against his, " _Yup_. You've rendered me useless, boneless, brainless. Take your pick. All of the above. I'm just _gone_." 

Oliver laughs as he grips her hips tugging her towards him and they both groan as he slides between her folds. She throws her head back and gasps loudly, her fingers digging into his skin, gripping him tightly. He rocks his hips against hers, once, then twice enjoying the way she keens out his name, until she's just releasing soft gasps in surprise. Each time she opens her mouth and he just  _knows_ she's going to say something, he changes the angle, or drives harder into her and pointedly ignores his own pleasure to focus on her own

When she shatters under him, the only sound she can mutter is his own name. He ghosts his lips against her own and whispers softly, "That was all part of my plan, Mrs. Queen."

Her laughter echoes throughout their tiny room as they lose themselves in each other all over again. He'll take her poor cooking any day if it means he will wake up to this for the rest of his life. 


End file.
